


The Scrabble One or How Peter Bishop Missed Yet Another Tell

by lulebell



Category: Fringe
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-07
Updated: 2011-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-14 12:29:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lulebell/pseuds/lulebell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An existential crisis during a game of Scrabble.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scrabble One or How Peter Bishop Missed Yet Another Tell

**Author's Note:**

> This is a shameless self insert. I was going to do this to my husband, but thought it might play out better in fic.

“You never let me win at Scrabble!”

Peter stood with his stretched out, palms face up. He cocked his head to the side and exchanged a glance with Astrid, who looked at him like he might have an idea of just what the hell was going on.

“Olivia,” he said as softly as possible, “what’s going on?”

“Dammit, Peter!” she screamed, cocking the gun; her outstretched hand was shaking and tears streaked down her cheeks.

“Olivia, please. Just calm down --”

“You never let me win at Scrabble!” she repeated, a tad more desperate than before. She squished her face up and turned her head to one side; her red hair fell over her shoulders.

“Olivia, just put the gun down...”

“Astrid? What’s going on?”

“Walter, shush! Olivia just pulled a gun on Peter and started screaming at him. He’s trying to calm her down.”

“Oh. I see.” Walter popped a bit of popcorn into his mouth. He offered the bowl out to Astrid, who took a handful.

“... and we can talk this out.”

“It’s hard for some people, Peter. I have dyslexia and you always make fun of me for it!”

“I... I didn’t know you’re dyslexic,” Peter looked at Astrid, genuinely confused; she shrugged and swallowed her mouthful. “I’m sorry,” he continued. “Let’s just sit down and play again, okay?”

Her breathing started to slow but she didn’t lower her gun.

“Here,” he said and reached into his pocket slowly, pulling out his cell phone. “I have a dictionary on my phone. I’ll let you use that, okay?”

“... m’k ...” she sniffed and hiccuped and lowered the gun, putting the safety back on.

Everyone resumed their places at the table, all eyes on Olivia, except for Walter, who was trying to scrape every last fleck of salted butter out of the bottom of the bowl. Olivia smiled happily and started plugging her letters into Peter’s phone.

“Did you know she was dyslexic?” Astrid whispered to Peter at the safest opportunity.

“No. How can someone with a photographic memory be dyslexic?”

“I got one!” Olivia cried out suddenly, laying down an _l, y_ beneath _quit_. She beamed at the others.

“What’s a _quitly_?” Astrid asked.

“It’s a fine move!” Peter said, quickly. He tried to encourage Astrid to be quiet with a nod. “My turn now.”

“I’m going to go make more popcorn!” Walter announced suddenly, scrapping his finger along the oily empty bowl.

“I’m going to go help him, you know, with the microwave... Good luck with your _quitly_ ,” Astrid slid off her seat and ran after Walter.

“This is fun, now, isn’t it?” Olivia asked smiling as if nothing at all had happened.

Peter winced and pulled new tiles from the black velvet bag.

“Oh yeah. A blast.”

//


End file.
